dedicated to a bunch of cinnamon-rolls

You are already of poor standing in society, so why add more to it?

However, it was not always like that. If only your late father were a lot wiser in choosing his next bride after your late mother…

Because said bride would become your stepmother and took over his entire estate, finances, and everything else he belonged. And while you were his daughter, she spared nothing other than a maid uniform and a bedroom near the kitchen. Perhaps the fairytales were real, very much the unfortunate beginning of it. And seeing how unlucky your life has been so far, a fairytale ending is very much out of your cards.

No money, nowhere else to go, this estate is all you know and the last thing that connects you to your parents. Leaving it is not an option.

With that truth, taking a chance of minor freedom should not sound so bad. You may have no clue how long you have such in this world, so if there’s even a sliver of an opening, you would gracefully slide through it.

Hence, that is what brought you to this special event. The yearly Jeong Masquerade Gala that all of the ton anticipates, wherein even the king and queen themselves made an appearance. Perhaps, they’re the only ones who did not remain anonymous. Yet to be in the same room as them feels like a dream.

Throughout the night so far, you roamed through the entire ballroom with curiosity and awe. Shimmering gowns swayed, glasses of the finest wines clinked, and wild chatter filled the air.

“The ballroom resembles a fantastical dream.”

“The Jeongs have done it again. Perhaps even better than the last.”

“Has anyone seen the soon-to-Duke? I heard he is on search for a bride, and my daughter would be quite the suitable woman for him.”

 Just like every woman present in the venue, a man would approach them for a dance. Your hand has been asked for such and who are you to decline? It is a night of mystery, and who are they to distinguish who is of high class and who is not as of now?

That only adds to the allure of it all.

One, two, even five gentlemen sought your hand for a dance. There were quick step waltzes with group dances that made you switch partners until you return to your original partner.

Was this what it felt like to be part of their world?

“I thank you for this lovely dance, my lady.” The original partner in question, who introduced himself as “Mark” or whatever his alias name is for the enigmatic night, bows. “Would you do me the honor for another dance later in the night?”

You nod out of respect, though your feet are quite not used to such high, tight shoes. Years in flats to pace all over the Park estate and serve your stepmother and stepsisters was deemed more practical, so such fancy shoes were another challenge.

But the roster of challenges did not end there. Besides dancing and getting comfortable in your overall outfit, trying to keep up with various conversations can make your brain woozy and overwhelmed. And that is not even due to the bits of champagne you sipped on tonight. Speaking of, you are not one to indulge in such alcohol luxury, so you can feel its effects taking a toll on you. Mid-swaying, higher pitched and quickly triggered

Stepping outside through the tall columns of the patio was the first thing that came on you, where a sprawling acre of peaches ran across the field. The lovely Jeong Peach Gardens, their staple product and once-in-a-lifetime view. Leaning closely to get a better view, a lot were fresh and ready while others are just starting to bloom. They were a show on their own.

However, the garden is no feat for the luminous sky above you. It appears that the stars and the moon have their own celebration above you, twinkling with all their might to express joy. Perhaps they wanted to spread it to those living below them. Minus all that deep, scientific chatter that men of the ton theorize about them earlier that evening, the poetic beauty behind these celestial objects urges you to feel a lot more happiness than worry.

To just forget your duties and just be you.

“Such a beautiful evening, is it not?”

Your momentary daze was cut short by a deep, rich voice. Masculine and rather amused too.

Almost instantly, you regained your composure and straightened your stance after perching against the railing for god knows how long. As you turn back, nothing could have prepared you for what you would see and say.

Or rather who.

There stood a tall gentleman leaning on the side of one pillar of the estate, donning a black and gold suit with a caveat of the same shades. He readjusts his sleeves momentarily, wherein your eyes caught the sparking gleam of his cufflinks. To be more specific, customized ones as one had a peach engraved while the other had the letter J.

This well-dressed gentleman must be of high ranking, you already assume. Only they’d have their family crests on their clothing, but that’s not for the knowledge of the lower classes. And it shows because who is this gentleman?

His hair is as black as the night sky, coiffed and proper with a few of his bangs dangling in front of his mask for the formal evening. His posture straightened, seeing his shoulders roll back to avoid slouching. And those brown orbs of his, they radiate warmth and invitation.

Hence, the nerves earlier came to halt.

And yet, out of all the possible gentleman you have glanced, seen, spoken, and even danced today, he was not one of them.

If you believed you carried mystery throughout the gala, this man solely fully takes you reign.

Because even with a black, sleek mask concealing his identity, a part of you can already tell that he’s rather handsome.

“My lady?” He asks with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“Oh yes.” You quickly and smoothly nod in agreement to his statement. You must stop spacing out! “The stars beam so brightly tonight, as if wanting to join this very gala beneath them.”

“Indeed.” He calmly shifts his stance back to the sky as he leans against the railing. Just a few mere inches away from you. “These celestial beings are truly immaculate.”

He pauses. “Or maybe they choose to gleam their precious light to someone they deem worthy.” Then he spares an earnest glance at you. “Someone as radiant as you are.”

A gentleman, you say? He has quite the flirtatious tongue. It felt… risqué. Was he a part of a different lot of men who charm their way around life?

“Such flowery, sweet terms.” You point out playfully. “Have you flattered other ladies of the ton already with them, my lord?”

He chuckles, revealing his pearly whites and dimples on his cheeks. “I believe that is just you, my lady.”

A flutter. A second one. Damn, this man. The charm he carries is justified alright.

But are you to revel in his compliments and give him the boost in his ego? Follow the usual construct of women easily falling for such shallow words?

Exactly.

“Well, thank you for your words.” You give a subtle nod and politely smile his way. “But I must say, I have already heard those words from numerous men tonight.”

He arches a brow. “Is that so?”

“Similar in physique, but alike in nature.” You expound further, fixating your attention back to the stars. “Then again, neither of them truly share a keen interest for the stars like I do.”

“Does that put me at an advantage?”

“View it however you please.”

The silence between the both of you, alongside more hushed music from the ballroom in the background, carried a sense of comfort. Fully captivated in watching the night sky twinkle and shine a lot brighter, it’s nothing like watching from the window of your chambers. Even the transparent barrier created a huge difference when you are outside.

Perhaps this luxurious, silk gown elicit such imposter-like feelings, but deep down, it’s as if you were meant to be right here.

If my mother were only here with me…

“What of the night sky entices you?” He cuts through the air, his tone curious and intrigued. Perhaps he knew where to draw the line of camaraderie and flirting.

“The night sky presents endless stars above, and those stars represent all the potential dreams I could have and even achieve.” Those words from your mouth elicited bittersweet memories of a younger you with your mother, a maid just as you. After lights out in the estate, you and her would sneak out to a hidden open curb with a majestic view of the night sky. The sky is the limit for your dreams, my love. Your place in society should not hinder you otherwise.

She may not have lived long enough to follow her advice, but here you were doing it. Not just for her, but for yourself and knowing better. Starting with this gala.

The mystery man gave a hopeful look as his lips curved into a half grin, along with a nod of agreement.

Less to your knowledge, he felt trapped as well. In his own world surrounded with high expectations and rules and standards he must abide and follow. And so the idea of stars as dreams had him wishing for an easier life, where he is in control and leads it in his own accord.

Perhaps you are not so different than me, he thinks.

But returning back to you, “And what dreams do you have that excites you, my lady?”

It is not everyday someone asks you that question, even more of how low of rank you are. Dreams are for the wealthy and for rich, high-ranking men, counteracting the words of your mother. But like breathing fresh air, having dreams of your own come naturally to you.

“I dream to see the world beyond this city, to be one of the lucky people stepping on the several ships that ride in and out rather than being the watcher. I also dream to make a name for myself, work for myself, to be free.”

Your heart soars as such thoughts. Yet those last words hit you as perfect as bullseye in archery. To be free from your stepfamily, to be free of patriarchal-dominant standards, to be free to dream and live a life that is yours.

“You have remarkable dreams, my Lady.” He praises.

“And what of you, my Lord?” You ask, pivoting your body to fully face him. “I believe it is fair to know what a rich and perhaps successful gentleman such as yourself would aspire to have and want.”

“You say I am rich?”

“And successful. Did you not listen, my Lord?”

Your banter earns you a deep, warmhearted laugh from him. Seeing how his eyes crinkle into the shape of crescent moons and his chest heaves, almost as if all of the tension in his body is set free. It made you wonder what made him feel that way. Did he had to act in such a formal, dignified way that showed no cracks to the ton? This whole evening is filled with gentlemen trying to flaunt what they have and own, one-upping each other. Only the strongest can survive here.

“Well,” He gives a more authentic smile. “I dream to live my own life in my own terms. Away from the pressures and rules my family has on me, to travel more and create more art that my father would not shun away as “a waste of precious time.” While I have no retorts on my soon to be responsibilities, I simply want freedom even for a moment to breathe and treasure the young man I am as of now.”

Soon-to-be-responsibilities? This mystery gentleman must be the heir of a big family then, the firstborn. Thank goodness for your masks then. Because sans mask and during day light, this conversation would be a scandal.

But regardless of his identity, his answer must’ve required a lot of trust because he practically expressed his vulnerability to you. In this society, a gentleman would never Even with masks on, he was honest and authentic. Compared to earlier, it’s as if his mood changed into a lighter one.

With a pause, he brushes some strands of his hair away to face you again. “It seems that we share similar aspirations, my Lady.”

“I assume you’re a Duke or Viscount of some sort?” The curious part in you could not hold it in. “Maybe an Earl or Marquis?”

“Maybe one of them.” He gives a mischievous glint. “Maybe not.”

“Ha ha.” You mockingly laugh, crossing your arms on your chest. “So which is it?”

“An answer for another time. Why break the mysterious allure of the masquerade, my Lady?” He questions, tilting his head at you. “Perhaps you take a fancy at me?”

“You are quite incorrigible.”

“And you ask too much.”

The conversation between the both of you flew by seamlessly, all while keeping some things to yourselves to honor the mysterious aura of the night. As you share how you adore the pressed flower display in one aspect of the ballroom, he opens up about all the gentlemen in the evening that he knows are all looking for potential brides.

“I presume you will be of attendance in their weddings?”

“As if I had a choice.”

His playful, boyish charm made it easy to talk to him as informally as you can. It is simply not everyday you talk to a man of such ranking (whatever it is), given your own (hidden) lowly status. All you would get is a nod and “may you fetch me a glass of whiskey and crackers?”. So to have a real conversation, one that would not get you scolded or judged for, made you feel seen. Validated. Important.

Just as you listen to him talk about this one insistent mama trying to set her herself up with him (“a widow who would rather be with me that her daughter”), you let out a loud laugh. The most authentic one from tonight too, you can feel your belly and upper body contract. Trying to cover your mouth to muffle the noise, his attention quickly shifted to the piece of jewelry in your left wrist.

“Such beautiful charms you are wearing there.” Out of the blue, he slowly took your hand in his. Swiftly enough, something electrifying jolts your spine. And perhaps your heart too. Soft yet calloused, he brings it closer to further inspect it. “What do each of them symbolize?”

Your silver charm bracelet holds deep importance to you ever since your wrists were big enough to accommodate such fine jewelry. The only one really that is of high quality as the ones you wore were either borrowed or knock-offs from the market. This very bracelet belonged to your late mother, who received it as a gift from your late father when their forbidden romance was still blossoming. It was something she always wore until she passed it down to you in her bedridden state.

“It is time to make your own mark in the world, but always know that I am always with you in every step of the way. It will always be you and me, my butterfly.”

Those words continue to ache in your heart, all the more to take care of her bracelet.

6 small charms clung along to the silver chain, half of them starting to fade as time impacted them greatly. But the other half still shone brightly, only recently bought through the years since you started wearing it. That is if you saved enough money for such, and so you ensured each new charm was intentional and vital to who you are becoming day by day.

“The rose,” You delicately pointed out the faded flower with the lightest gleam when put under the light of not for the minute-sized gems. “It symbolizes how my parents met and fell in love.”

The Park Estate has the most renowned rose garden, the envy of everyone of the ton up until today. A close second to the nearby Jeong Peach Gardens. Decades ago, your mother simply sought out respite after a day of cleaning the spacial library when she accidentally encountered your father. He also need to take a breath after his lectures with his father as the duke-to-be. Instead of running off after a hefty amount of apologies that almost made her cry and beg to keep her job, your father asked your mother to stay by him as he vented out his worries. So did she. From that day on, they were always secretly meeting there while all the staff and his family were resting in their chambers.

“The books,” Your gaze fell towards the pile of stacked books right beside the rose. “They represent my parents’ shared love for literature.”

Behind the growing bushes of the rose garden, your father always exchanged books with your mother when she mentioned her interest for reading. He was quite into classics, while she loved romance. And soon enough, the details she read in books started to manifest in real life the more she opened to your father.

“The moon,” You paused to admire the beautiful crescent to prepare your heart for the impending doom. “It expresses the freedom and privacy of their love even in the darkest of nights.”

A maid and soon-to-be duke could never be together. Even as their love continues to grow, the risks of exposing into the light is grave. And so they continue to love and be together in the shadows. Beyond the rose garden, they explored the hidden parts of the estate and even the parts of London that are mainly for the lower class. It was only in the night where they had such adventures, and so the moon was their loyal companion who kept them safe.

Other than some maids in Park estate, this story is something you keep secret to yourself. Being the by-product of that love holds so much risk if the story was shared to the wrong person. And while you keep the more intricate details to yourself, a part of you still feels vulnerable whenever you tell the story and relish in the emotions that follow after.

Pity because their love ended when the butler caught them and threatened to expose them.

Longing when your mother was expecting you and upon telling your father, he could only give her access to his most private cottage in the countryside to protect her. Rather than be fully there for her.

Heartache when they both parted ways forever after he gave her the key and a carriage to take her to the countryside and how neither of them wrote to each other due to the risks it held.

However, you put on a brave face for the mystery stranger, who could only nod and grin at your words. That only meant that you managed to share their story in a positive light, as if tragedy never happened and that they still exist and loved each other openly.

“Such lovely people who raised you,” He praises, unaware of the real truth. Though you give him a glimmer of smile because they were good people, only unfortunate in their circumstances. “How about the other charms? What do they signify?”

“Quite the curious cat, aren’t you, my lord?”

He slowly squints his eyes, forming these fine lines around his nose. Those very lines ended up resembling cat whiskers. “They do say I look like one.”

Humor mixed with playful annoyance were expressed through your soft laugh at his jesty remark. “And dare as I say meow.”

With a teasing roll of his eyes, he continues on. “Do tell me what these other charms mean. They must be just as important.”

They are, especially when they symbolized your independence at a young age.

“Well, the ship represents my desire to travel and venture through this vast world. Like I mentioned earlier.” Your fingers delicately pick up the rather loose charm of a ship with a small chimney releasing exhaust.

“As for this tiny star,” You maneuver your wrist to accentuate the very charm under the moonlight. “I believe that I always meant to shine, no matter where in life I can be.”

“And finally, the butterfly,” The last charm is between the star and rose, coming into full circle. “It resembles freedom to soar and fly high, no matter where you come from.”

From your hidden yet unique cocoon that was the cottage you were born into then to a bolder cocoon that is the Park estate when you were merely a toddler, you can feel yourself slowly crumble and exit out of its hard interior. And once you do, you’ll gracefully bloom into this magnificent butterfly who’ll fly to wherever her heart deems.

But then again, that scenario still feels so far and while you sense progress, the cocoon you’re in still remains hard and solid. Cracks, sure, but not strong enough to break through. Your appearance tonight at the gala is almost like a premature getaway. You were lucky to have some knowledge of proper etiquette through books while being clueless in certain aspects now that you were in the actual event. But luckily, the latter did not occur as much, seeing that a lot of these people in the ton are actually easy to impress.

Or at least the people you have met and encountered so far were like that. No need for additional flowery terms to get on their good side, as long as you can hold a great conversation and manners.

But with this stranger, the informality between the both of you felt seamless. Freeing. Just right. And how the side of his lips went for a crooked grin while gazing down at you, it was mutual. Differences in ranking were not considered, at least that’s how you viewed it in the moment.

Under his watchful yet soft gaze, his hand returns to your charm bracelet-clad one. “The meanings behind this bracelet are beautiful.” He lifts it up to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckle, almost leaving you breathless. “It only makes sense when its owner is as such.”

“Flattery again, my lord?”

“Is it working then?”

Before you could respond with a witty retort, he speaks up again. “Dare I say, is your father in attendance?”

“Why do you ask?” You respond, taken aback at his directness.

“I would like to speak with him.” His thumb rubs the side of your hand, hopeful. “Perhaps seek for more time with you.”

What an offer, this holds. In fact, you already know what this may entail. It is quite the goal for many ladies (un)like yourself to achieve as the social season is in full swing. Other than the m-word, this arrangement between you two could have been your gateway to freedom. All the possibilities this held, rushing through your mind with such lighting speed. Even more so discover who this mystery stranger is and further appreciate just how open-minded and kind he is.

And perhaps who is truly is and like behind the mask.

However, your father has already passed, and even if you shared a few years with him, he never truly acknowledged you as his own. It was too risky, and well, you’re a deep and painful reminder of the woman he loved most. Other than that, you have no one with you in the moment. That immediately put a tumultuous stop in your daydreaming like a carriage being pushed off-track and crash down the hills.

Someone of your ranking should not indulge in such fantasies, let alone entertain this offer.

Let alone use a mask as a momentary security blanket from your current reality, which still feels permanent to you.

“But you barely know me, my Lord.”

“Then that can be changed, if you are open to it.”

Optimism was evident in his tone, even as his hold on you remains. If not, tighter than prior. In a split moment, he steps forward and get closer to you. A whiff of cedarwood and sage has your senses enwrapped in his presence, making your frivolous thoughts of protest simply stop. Now, it starts to pick up the 2 small moles on his left cheek, the short black dots of his shaven scruff on his chin and upper lip…

The pinkness and plumpness of his lips. Just inches away from your own.

You could only gulp subtly at all these pieces of information. This rather compromising position you are both in feels scandalous, even more if someone were to catch you both. And as you bravely lock eyes with him, it’s as if time slowed down just for this moment. As the moonlight continues to beam down on him fully along the fire-lit lanterns all across the gardens, this masked stranger has taken notice of your full scrutiny on him. To that, his free hand smoothly glides along your lower back and rest on the side of your waist. You hitch a breath. This very moment between the both of you, appreciating each other’s silent presences, stretched with a lace of delicacy and danger.

But it can also go a number of ways, if either of you would further close the g-

“I am unsure, my Lord.”

“How so?”

“I-” I am not who you deem I am. “I still have numerous gentlemen to tend to.”

“Is that so?” He says, challenged. “But what if I can change your mind?”

“And how would you do that?” Oh, how much harder he is making it for you.

In a swift transition, the music from the ballroom switched from a lively tune to something slower and graceful. The sweet strings of the violin danced around with the mellow sounds of the flutes, and so did the growing tension between the two of you. It was as if a higher entity conspired to push the two of you together and go even further.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” Even when you are both entangled and beginning to sway along, his politeness remains dignified.

In the briefest second, you hesitated. Almost wanting to show that your dance card for the night was full. In fact, the next gentleman after this “Mark” must be looking for you.

However, the mystery man’s brown eyes and kind gestures were impossible to refuse. And was it everyday to be so near a man like this, given your status and busyness to your maid duties?

You loosened your left from his grip so you would come to contact with his palm in yours instead of your wrist, then place your right hand on his shoulder. Picking up quickly, the hand on your waist moved to the small of your back. Warm and secure, almost as if he was not letting you go so soon.

“I presume that is a yes?”

“Would you like me to step back instead?”

“Are you challenging me once again, my lady?” His brow smugly lifts.

You chuckle. “Quit your teasing and let us waltz, my Lord.”

Your closeness could have easily shocked all of the ton and became a huge topic for gossip if you were to get caught. And yet, living a little bit on the edge boosted this newfound thrill in you. Any closer and your faces would come in contact. Anyone from afar would assume that you two are much more.

And it’s not helpful that he has such pink, plump lips.

Okay there, that is not something you would ponder on given that he is a stranger.

A really handso-

In a sudden switch of things, the mystery man momentarily pulled away from your entanglement. Your brow arched in confusion.

“Let us dance somewhere much more private than here, my Lady.”

“Is this location not already remote enough?”

“Remote is being able to dance near the beautiful peaches and under the bright stars,” He reasons. “So do tell me if that is not a better option when we are near a buzzing ballroom.”

He is right, and you cannot deny it. And perhaps, you are eager to see more of this place. Who is to say if this is your only night to be surrounded by such luxury?

Measured and refined, his hand reaches out for yours. You take it, letting him guide down the stairs leading to the gardens. The sprawling greening serves as a better temporary shelter from your reality, wherein like the stars, the flowers would dare not snitch and focus more on blooming and provide comfort and awe to whoever sees them.

As you both stride through soft patches of grass, he stops right by small bushes of dandelions soaking in all the moonlight. The music from the ballroom is not as faint, but your ears pick up on its much slower and gentle pace. Almost like for a waltz, reserved for those who are completely sure with each other.

Comparing that to the pace of your own heart as this mystery man’s gaze on you is deep and fully on you, the gap of similarity is huge.

Even more as he swept into a courteous bow. Naturally enough, you curtsied in the same manner.

When he extends a hand at you, it still fuddles your mind at how a woman of low class was to step into a rather tender dance with a man of presumably high class and influence. Instead of intimidation, ease seeped in like how the light from the garden lanterns bathes over his thick, black hair with slight dishevelment from tonight’s festivities. Having anonymity from this masquerade gala was one thing, but being completely yourself even in a mask in these gardens brought out a different aspect of you.

Someone braver and bolder, one who is not going to let her societal status define or control her.

As if an imaginary fabric of silk slides over your shoulder, any remaining fear and reservations slips free from your grasp.

Without a second less, your hand is placed back in his. Like a missing piece of puzzle, wherein everything about it just looks and feels right.

The mystery stranger straightened his posture as his free hand returns to rest on the small of your back. Unknown to him, his touch lit a flame in your skin and a small sigh escapes your lips. The both of you sway side to side, back and forth, embodying certainty and patience in your moves. At the moment, it did not matter where you two were at; just being and existing did.

You let this stranger take the lead, your skirts grazing with the grass at every step and sway. The rhythm of your steps was quite aligned with every breath and pulse of this lively garden. From the calm ripples from the fountains, the hush of wind-kissed leaves, to even the distant laughter and chatter from guests from the ballroom.

“You dance well, my Lord.” You found your voice, even if it was just a mere whisper. The awe of the entire moment still remains with you.

“I may have garnered lessons over the years,” He bashfully admits, a tinge of pink painting the tips of his ears. “It was something my mother highly insisted.”

“I presume it was a non-negotiable amongst your other duties?”

“You could say that.” A light shrug of his shoulders. “Despite my father’s protests, who says dancing is best reserved for women, it does match up to my liking for fencing.”

“A man of balance and talents.” You tease. “What is it about dancing that you like so much?”

“The freedom, the grace,” He explains, perusing you deeply as if studying your every feature that is not hidden by the mask. “Being able to step away from the real world and simply focus on the present moment.”

Your breath hitches when he momentarily stops so his hand interlocked with yours could graze the supple skin of your cheek. “And you, my Lady, make me forget and just let me be and live.”

It’s only natural to relax into his touch and drown in his words, fully spellbound in his brown-eyed gaze. To be a source of his comfort, regardless of whatever his worries were, makes your unexpected appearance filled with purpose.

Perhaps, being here despite all odds was weaved into your fate all this time. And not even society could try to alter that.

“I resonate with your words too, my Lord.” Your emotions guide your words this time, letting logic and your battling mind take a deep backseat behind. “You are the plot twist that I never knew I needed.”

Swiftly, something in the air changed. The once playful and testing mood between you and this mystery stranger delved to uncharted territory. Something more vulnerable and... intimate.

The space between you both seemed to contract inwards, as if the garden was folding and closing in on them further. No more bushes or the traces of the bustling estate, just you and him. With your free hand cupping his that rests on your cheek, you can sense his other hand on the small of your back drawing you nearer to him. For a split moment, his gaze dipped to see your parted, faintly scarlet lips, nearly dissolved of hue from all the drinks and conversations.

His face was much closer now than before, being able to outline his light stubble along his jaw and the delicate curve of his lips barely parted as he exhaled. His breath mingled with yours, warm and intoxicating with refined traces of whiskey. And those eyes of his, dark and unreadable, made you feel small yet powerful. Whatever it is about you, he was hooked and cannot let you out of your sight.

Your heartbeat thundered into its own internal storm in you, yet you had no intention to pull away.

“This may seem silly to say,” His husky voice momentarily cuts the tension as his palm rose up to where your mask rests. Almost as if he were to remove it, but instead, get a feel of your visage beneath it. “But I can dance with you all night, forever even.”

“No,” You croaked, fluttering your lashes up to him. “It is not at all.”

The air becomes more charged between you two, as if reaching the climax of a bolting sonata. As your hands now stay on his shoulders, his face further lowered while yours tilted to meets his. Almost like a puppeteer are stringing you both together. Your eyes slowly closed, waiting for its inevitable impact. You could even sense the slightest brush of his nose on yours---

DONG.

DONG.

DONG.

The great bell of the Jeong estate tower chimes sharply, cleaving through the evening hush.

Midnight.

You were startled at first, your breath catching audibly. Then your heart drops immediately.

As planned with the estate staff, this sound would only mean one thing.

It is time to go.

Whatever spell you were coaxed into tonight, it is shattered and gone.

And just like clockwork, most families of the ton would start leaving the gala.

To add on, that would include your stepmother and stepsisters, or who is to say?

Then again, it is always better to be safe than sorry by scrubbing the floors all week on your own with limited materials if you get caught.

“I must go.” Reluctantly, your body frees itself from his grasp. It takes a moment for your heart to catch up as all these different emotions burst through you. Relief, disappointment, envy, maybe some anger, processing each of them can be done at another time.

You have a carriage to ride, even more as a subtle, flickering white light signals you from the right side of the garden. As agreed on, that sign indicates that Mark is ready to pick you up. You are even more impressed that he found you among the vast acres of this estate.

Twelves chimes of the bell rang, further telling you that it is midnight.

“But wait,” His hand almost grips your wrist, but you were a lot quicker. Yet you still turned out regardless of how crucial every second counted at this point. You wanted to study him once more before he would be merely a memory in your life. A sweet one among the tumultuous storm that is yours.

“Yes, my lord?”

“I do not even know the name of the lady whom I have spoken to and danced with all night.”

Your lips curved up, masking the disdain in your chest. The night was a mystery in itself, so why not keep it at that? “But where is the fun in that, my lord?”

Skepticism is spread across his mask-clad visage, and before he could protest,

“Until we meet again, Charming.”

Oh, where did you get such boldness? Wherever it came from, you can ponder on it later. Time is ticking.

Without a breath longer, you turn around and run to where your carriage was secretly parked. Just beyond the hedges to the right, which remains unseen to the public, your adrenaline was your driving force. Your body merely reacted to the need to arrive at Park estate on time, holding no more extra thoughts that can disrupt your flow. It did not even matter if the bottom hems of your gown grew dirty with soil and leaves or the tightness of heels intensified the ache in your feet.

Even the resounding voice of the mystery stranger calling and chasing after you as your movement crunches the near branches and further rustles nearby bushes did not pull you in for a stop. The faster you go, the better chances he would not spot where you are going.

The moment you leapt inside the carriage with the help of your trusted companion, Mark, he sat on the driver’s seat and pulled the ropes on the horses. Just after the last bell signaling that midnight has arrived, the carriage rode off just like how all the stars in the sky have now vanished. As if seeking for rest, just like you were at this moment.

The grip on the tulle of your skirt loosened as your back relaxes on the cushioned seating, urging your eyes to close for a moment as you catch your breath.

At this point, you were running on fumes that decreased by the second. From the moment you woke up at the dawn of the day to attend your maid duties until the sudden chime of midnight where you truly danced the night away, your once-in-a-lifetime fairytale evening came to a close.

While the pace of the carriage had some haste to it, it was also slow enough to peek through the slightly open sliver of its window. The moon is what remained of the sky, being your only witness to this new, sneaky side of yourself without anyone to tell. Maybe your late parents are up there too, feeling more optimistic that they would be supportive too.

But besides that, there is relief in knowing that the moon would never snitch, lie, or betray. All it does is provide its beautiful light so no one would ever feel alone in the dark.

And as this light safely leads you back to the familiar estate, going back to your unfortunate reality, your eyes close once more and deeply this time. Your body also starts to ease into the softness of the cushion, using your shawl as a temporary blanket from the mild chill of this spring evening.

But even as you have some momentary go shut eye, his inviting brown eyes and genuine smile were all you could envision. Your heart leapt, making your lips grin in utter exhilaration.

To the heavens above, “I hope we could cross paths once more, Charming.”

Back in the vast gardens of the Jeong estate, a very determined gentleman continues his search of his entrancing muse.

“Where are you gone, my Lady?” He calls out with a tad of desperation and longing.

Within the pressure and scrutiny faced in the crowded ballroom, only these acres of flowers sprawling endlessly through the village along with the beautiful night sky above kept his composure.

But mostly, her.

Who is to leave so soon simply because the tower of the estate rung midnight? It is not like this is some sort of real-life fairytale, correct? Nothing made sense, he thought.

But then again, everything about her, her alluring presence, and their moments together was a dream in itself. Away from the expectations of his family and eager young ladies with their pestering mamas, she simply let his guard down and relax even with masks on.

That just adds to the charm of their evening together, even when his yearning lips almost…

Just as he was to resign back to the ballroom, his chambers even if he were lucky to sneak in from behind, something metallic on the side caught his line of sight. Resting on a pillow of daisies, he crouches down to see what this item was. The moment his calloused fingers gently pried some of the blooms away, they picked up the delicate item.

Judging by the mix of faded and new silver charms latching on the various hooks along the chain, it’s none other than a charm bracelet.

Specifically, hers.

“Wherever you are,” The passionate stare of the invincible Duke Jeong Jaehyun remains unmoved on the delicate piece of jewelry, inspecting and thumbing it to rotate all the charms to his perusal. “I will find you, my darling.”